


Vanilla Surprise

by SylvesterM



Series: Something More [1]
Category: Goblin Slayer (Anime), Goblin Slayer (Manga), Goblin Slayer - Kagyu Kumo
Genre: Apologies, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Gift Giving, Goblin Slayer being clueless, Ice Cream, Making Up, Post-LN 6, Priestess being adorable, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 07:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19127356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvesterM/pseuds/SylvesterM
Summary: Spoilers for LN 6. Priestess gets promoted. The party is celebrating, but the seat at the head of the table is left empty. After a short talk with Spearman and Cow Girl, Goblin Slayer realizes he missed out on something important to his young cleric. Against all odds, he actually knows of a frozen treat that will make it up to her.





	Vanilla Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! First time writing for Goblin Slayer, so here it goes. I might make this a collection of oneshots eventually, but we'll see. This is meant to be a lighthearted little take on Goblin Slayer and Priestess' friendship, and a tiny peek into something more serious. I did a little research into ice creme making in the old days, but this probably isn't all that accurate lmao. Bear with me. Enjoy, and drop a comment if you like what you read! Also, this was crossposted on my alt. account on FF.

“Let’s hear it for our young Priestess!” The sharp cry came from High Elf Archer, one foot up on the tavern’s bench, one arm wrapped around the girl in question’s shoulders, and her other raising a mug of ale high up to the heavens. The small celebratory lunch was initially going to be just that, until Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest caught wind of their plans. Very quickly, ale and wine joined the menu, not that anyone was complaining.

“To yer health, lass!” Dwarf Shaman chimed, sloshing forth his goblet full of fire wine.

“Cheers, to the young prodigy!” Lizard Priest called out, a wheel of goat cheese in one hand, and some of Dwarf Shaman’s wine in the other.

There were several other cheers that resounded throughout the Guild’s tavern. Most notably from the various adventurers their party had crossed paths with and fought alongside in the past. This included Heavy Swordsman and Female Knight and their party, and the young duo Apprentice Cleric and Rookie Warrior. High Elf Archer stuck her little chest out in pride at the drinks being raised for her companion. She patted Priestess on the back once before sitting back down and chugging her drink.

Priestess’s cheeks burned a fierce red, and only part of it was the alcohol’s doing. She whimpered as she tugged at High Elf Archer’s sleeve, “C’mon, you’re embarrassing me here!”

The elf waved a hand in dismissal as she blew out a raspberry.

“It’s not everyday our healer gets a promotion, you know. Celebration is -hic- celebration!” High Elf Archer swayed a little where she sat, suppressing the hiccups from downing her drink a little too quickly.

The young healer fidgeted awkwardly, never one for being the center of attention. Yet she knew their ranger had a point. There was a moment she’d doubted herself, and her worthiness to be promoted, especially after being denied once. But she’d earned it this time. Lives were saved thanks to her thinking and leadership.

Things she’d learned from _him_ one way or another.

Priestess let out a sigh and leaned onto the table, hands in her face. He wasn’t joining in on their celebration today. Of course, Goblin Slayer was his own man, and he could do what he wanted. He didn’t owe her anything. Heavens no, he didn’t owe her anything at all. But… she really wished he was here. Her eyes were settled on the vacant chair at the head of their table.

Even if he didn’t say much, she was always just content to be in his presence.

“Why the long face, lass?” Dwarf Shaman’s voice broke her train of thought.

She wasn’t sure if her cheeks could get any redder. Priestess straightened up, chuckling nervously, “Hm? No, it’s nothing.”

“Hoho, it seems our dear Priestess is missing someone!” Lizard Priest deduced. It appeared as though his eyes saw right through her.

“What?! N-no! It’s nothing like th-”

High Elf Archer’s mug slammed down onto the table with unnecessary force, causing them all to recoil in surprise.

“I tell you, that Orcbolg! Aaaalways in such a hurry to run off the moment the goblins are gone and the quest is turned in!” High Elf Archer’s slurring voice snarled, her other hand balled into a fist and striking the table, “It’s like it would -hic- it would kill the guy to just sit down and unwind with his friends!”

Lizard Priest let out a hum in affirmation before saying, “Indeed. I imagine he’s heading home with his friend to the farm.”

The dwarf snorted around his goblet of wine, “Maybe the lad is off to do a little celebratin’ of his own, if ya know what I mean!” The dwarf, only slightly tipsy, but as rambunctious as ever, began to make lewd hip thrusts from where he sat.

He had to bat away a piece of cheese thrown by their archer, who scolded him, “You horrible dwarf! You’re not a dwarf, you’re a pig!”

Always the middleman, Lizard Priest broke in, “My friends, please spare the nectar from your foolishness!” He grabbed the tray of cheese slices protectively.

Priestess said nothing, only reddening slightly more at the implications of their shaman. She cradled her goblet of wine with two hands as she sipped, letting the warmth course through her body. Her eyes settled once more on the empty seat at the head of their table. She smiled sadly.

Sure, he wasn’t here to celebrate her promotion with them. But she owed it to him that she even got this far. Besides, she was certain she’d see him again soon.

* * *

 

“Hey, Goblin Slayer!”

The adventurer in question stopped his bold stride. He wore grimy leather armor, supplemented by crude half-plate protecting his torso. A small, round shield was strapped to his left arm. At his hip rested a sword of a strange length; too long to be a dagger, but too short to be an arming sword. His cheap steel helmet turned to the origin of the voice.

Standing by Goblin Slayer was Cow Girl, her steps similarly halting as she curiously turned to the person calling her friend out.

It was Spearman, clad in his plate armor, dyed a dark blue with gold highlights. Casually hoisted over one shoulder was his spear. In his other hand, he carried a small pouch.

“Yes?” Asked Goblin Slayer.

Spearman closed the distance with several long strides, politely smiling once at Cow Girl.

“I keep saying I don’t like being your errand boy, but for some reason, that just keeps happening,” Spearman groaned a little more dramatically than necessary.

“I didn’t request for your services.”

“Yeah, yeah. But the Smith did.”

“Is that so?”

Spearman squinted at Goblin Slayer, trying to peer into the depths of his helm to see his expression. Alas, he had no luck. The Frontier’s Strongest grumbled under his breath before taking a few more steps forward to extend the pouch to Goblin Slayer.

“Your order came in. Smith said it was a rush order you placed a while back… but it wasn’t as rushed as you probably would have liked.” Spearman shrugged.

Goblin Slayer took the bag but paused before opening it. Cow Girl curiously tugged at the string to get a peek into the mysterious pouch. Goblin Slayer was pleasantly surprised at Spearman’s drive. He and his old friend were easily more than halfway to The Farm by now, yet Spearman had been able to track them down and walk all this way to deliver this pouch to him. He truly was one of Goblin Slayer’s most reliable associates.

“Why you?’

Spearman rolled his eyes, “I was having a few dents in my pauldrons hammered out – see, good as new!” He proceeded to angle himself to give Goblin Slayer and Cow Girl a better view.

“It certainly looks good as new,” Cow Girl said with a small smile.

“I see.” Was Goblin Slayer’s standard reply.

“Anyway, he tossed me some gold and told me about your _rush_ order. Saltpeter, huh? What are you gonna do with it? You making fireworks? Small bombs?”

Goblin Slayer grunted, and his helmet produced a slight rattle when he nodded, “Something like that.”

“…I see” Spearman muttered.

Cow Girl was now holding the bag, peering in to see it teeming with the coarse white powder in question.

“I heard about your healer, by the way. Congrats,” Spearman offered a good-natured smirk, “Steel, right? One year in the trade and bumped up to the eight rank. Not bad at all.”

“Yes…” Goblin Slayer trailed off for a moment, “She has come a long way.”

“Damn right,” Spearman said with a nod, before teasing, “I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten sick of your never-ending goblin slaying crusade by now. Would’ve thought you’d have scared her off sooner.”

“ _The girl_ …” Goblin Slayer began, but paused, his expression inscrutable as ever.

Conversations from a year ago flashed through Goblin Slayer’s mind, of all the times he’d tried to gently shake her off. He’d always tried to do so for her own good, never for a lack of desire for working with her. He knew the path he walked could only end with the extermination of all the world’s goblins, or with his inevitable demise against the damnable creatures.

Yet he never openly forbade her from being his adventuring (or more appropriately exterminating) companion. While it had taken time to get used to shifting from his solo act to being a duo, and then a whole team… Well, many of his accomplishments the past year would have been impossible if not for Priestess and the rest of his party.

He'd always told her to do as she wished, and so she did. He covered himself in goblin viscera, entered their caves, and he would rip and tear until none of the little bastards remained. Why it was that she wished to follow him right in, covered in blood and guts, and acting as his support – well, it was a mystery to him. He’d grown to highly appreciate her support and her presence as a companion, and even as a friend. Even if the term felt strange and unfamiliar in his mouth. He’d since stopped trying to shake her off by reminding her that she need not join him, and that she should do as she wished. It was clear that they were a team now, for better or for worse.

“Hey, you okay in there?” A slender hand wrapped around his bicep, and Goblin Slayer turned to it, and the woman it belonged to. Cow Girl looked up at him, a mix of concern and amusement on her features. The warrior blinked a few times to clear his train of thought, as he nodded at the woman. He then turned back to Spearman, who leaned on his weapon, waiting for his reply.

“ _The girl_ does as she wishes and as she pleases.”

“I’m sure she does,” Spearman nodded. After a moment, his eyes seemed to light up, as if he’d just realized something, “Hey, so why aren’t you celebrating?”

“Celebrating?”

Spearman narrowed his eyes, “Celebrating your cleric’s promotion! Sheesh, who else are we talking about here?”

“Hrng…” Goblin Slayer grunted.

“Your party was having a hearty lunch and some drinks before I left.”

“…Is that so?”

“It is so,” Spearman replied with a little irritation in his tone.

“I didn’t know your friends were having a celebration,” Cow Girl chimed in, tilting her head at her old friend and giving him a gentle smile, “You could have stayed for a bit, you know?”

“…I see.”

“The girl you took under your wing gets promoted after her plan saves a bunch of rookie lives, and you manage to skip out on the party? C’mon, Goblin Slayer, ya gotta learn how to treat a girl right,” Spearman jested. Well, half of it was in jest.

Goblin Slayer’s eye twitched underneath his helmet. He’d slay droves of Goblins to keep her safe, to keep his whole party safe. Yet…

Another memory flashed through his mind, this time of Wizard Boy’s verbal tirade against his young cleric. How Lizard Priest had stepped in to put the boy in his place, and how Female Knight had been the one to shift topics and get the heat off of Priestess. How he had stood there, unsure of what to say or do to help her.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he really was helpless.

“Is it… is it that big of a deal?”

Spearman tiredly rubbed a hand over his face, while Cow Girl simply smiled at him good naturedly.

“I believe it may be a big deal to her,” Cow Girl offered.

“Is it – is it a –” Spearman sighed, pausing to regain composure, “Yes, it’s a big deal. You have to remember, when you get promoted, it means you’re _doing something_ for the world. Getting promoted is a testament to your skill, to your impact on your surroundings, to what people think and say about you.”

“If your girl got a promotion, that means she’s starting to make a name for herself. She’s not some unknown porcelain that’ll get chewed out within a week! People recognize that cute little face of hers. They know that where she goes, and where you go, Goblins die, and I guess people are safer. Don’t you remember all the times you got promoted?”

“No.” Was Goblin Slayer’s dispassionate reply.

Spearman sighed, “You know, I should know you better by now. Of course, you don’t remember.”

“But you know what?” Spearman continued, “I’ve got you covered, buddy. It’s simple.”

Goblin Slayer’s helmet tilted to the side, “What is?”

“How to make it up to her.”

There was a pause. Cow Girl hummed in interest, while Goblin Slayer stared at Spearman from behind his visor.

The girl was important to him, there wasn’t any question about it. She was an invaluable ally, a quick learner, a brilliant support… She reminded him of simple interpersonal etiquette and speaking in more than two-to-three-word phrases. If he had slighted her by being absent at her small party, whether or not he himself thought it was a particularly big deal… well, that’s no good. He’d make amends.

“I’m listening.”

“Get her a present!” Spearman spread his arms theatrically, “Get her a congratulations present!”

“Hmm…”

“C’mon, girls love presents, don’t they?” Spearman grinned at Cow Girl, who giggled, before humming in thought herself.

“Presents are always nice,” Cow Girl smiled brightly at Goblin Slayer, “There needs to be some thought in it.”

“…Like what?”

Spearman scoffed, as if offended by Goblin Slayer’s question. “She’s _your_ friend, Goblin Slayer! Only _you_ would know what the perfect gift for her would be.”

“Is that so?”

The Frontier’s Strongest squinted at the helmed man before him, and opened his mouth to berate him –

“Actually…” Goblin Slayer said, “I think I know just the thing.”

* * *

 

 _A Frozen Treat. Ice crème_.

That’s what Goblin Slayer had said when Cow Girl and Spearman asked what he was planning. Yet, he did not elaborate on this further. He had thanked Spearman again for the delivery and promptly resumed his bold stride back to The Farm. Naturally, Cow Girl followed suite, leaving Spearman glaring at the other man’s abrupt departure.

They walked in silence for the duration of the trip. The minutes ticked by until Cow Girl eventually asked him if he needed anything. He thought for a moment, before saying that everything he needed was at the farm, and that he’d simply pay for any consumable materials or ingredients he’d use. She wouldn’t have even batted an eye, but of course Goblin Slayer needed to exchange coin for goods, lest he upset her Uncle.

After they arrived at The Farm, Cow Girl was quick to shoo Goblin Slayer away to handle his little project while she prepared dinner. He complied without argument.

And so, Cow Girl set to work. She got the fire going to boil the water, she chopped vegetables, she rinsed and sliced meat, she seasoned the broth. It was a happy little routine for her that she’d gotten accustomed to over the years. She hummed – a little out of tune, but who cares? – and swayed her hips as she pattered to and fro, making sure the stew was coming along well.

As she worked, Goblin Slayer had been intermittently entering and exiting the kitchen, as quiet as a mouse, which was always surprising for a man of his build and armor. He was no towering knight with muscles upon muscles that were barely contained beneath a layer of plate mail. Yet he was still of a strong and sturdy build, with half-plate thick enough to stop a sword or maybe even an axe. A man like him had no business producing less sound than a ghost. Yet there he was.

She watched him with interest whenever he made those quick, quiet trips into the kitchen. At first, he’d commandeered a bucket. Then, a small bottle of vanilla concentrate. Then, a small barrel. Cow Girl lost track after that, but she was fairly sure he’d come and gone while her back was turned, snatching whatever else he needed.

At some point, Cow Girl had the idea of preparing a cold tea to contrast the stew. After setting the kettle up, she stepped out of the kitchen and made her way to the cellar, where they had a couple of ice boxes, loaded with snow imported last season from the North. What a wonder those insulated boxes and a bunch of salt could do.

Cow Girl was just about to reach down for the cellar’s handle when the door flung open, and she let out a little yelp as she took a step back.

“…Sorry.” A crude steel helmet looked up at her.

Cow Girl let out a sigh and regained her composure. She noticed Goblin Slayer carrying one of the iceboxes.

“Be careful, silly,” She chastised him with a tap on his helm. The man nodded once before taking the last few steps out of the cellar. He seemed to notice her eyeing the icebox in his hand.

“…I’ll place an order at the guild to have it refilled,” Goblin Slayer said.

She didn’t doubt it. He was always a man of his word. She smiled up at him and placed a hand on his arm to usher him out of the way.

“I’m sure you will. Excuse me now,” Cow Girl said, as she descended into the cellar to retrieve ice from the second box. Goblin Slayer hesitated for just a moment before he resumed his quest.

After procuring the ice, Cow Girl returned to the kitchen, where she saw Goblin Slayer had already stashed the ice box elsewhere – probably his room – and was taking a small glass jar of candied orange peels from the cupboards. She was suddenly struck with the image of Goblin Slayer wearing a baking apron over his armor, and she could barely contain the giggles.

Goblin Slayer glanced in her direction as he shut the cupboards. “What?”

She gave him a toothy grin in response. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”

The warrior simply grunted before leaving the room with the jar. Cow Girl watched him fondly as he left the room. Once he was gone, she resumed preparing the cold tea, adding a dash of honey before plopping the ice into the mugs of tea. After a final bit of seasoning and a quick taste test, the stew was ready. All the was left was to call her Uncle and her old friend.

After summoning her Uncle first, she then pattered over to Goblin Slayer’s room. Knocking twice, she opened the door to find quite the sight.

Goblin Slayer sat on his bed, hunched over his little culinary project. The small barrel was loaded with appeared to be ice. Inside the barrel was a bucket filled with a sloshy cream-colored liquid. The warrior worked away with the utmost concentration at the creamy substance using a wooden spoon. He glared at the concoction so intently, she swore she could see a faint red glow emanating from within his helm. When she blinked, it was gone.

After a few more seconds of Goblin Slayer’s furious sloshing, he slowed down, and his helmet tilted upwards. He looked almost shy, as if he was so engrossed in his work, he didn’t quite notice her entrance.

“Watcha got there?” She chimed.

“Ice crème. Or it will be.” Was the far too serious reply.

“How’d you do it?”

Goblin Slayer continued mixing the steadily thickening tub of crème as he spoke, “We met a dessert vendor in Water Town. He said by mixing saltpeter with snow, he was able to create a freezing compound. By putting milk into a container and submerging it into the compound, it froze the milk to a degree, and he was able to create what he called ice crème.”

After another moment of beating away at the mixture, Goblin Slayer pulled the spoon back from the mixture with a barely audible sigh. Cow Girl studied him. She could read him like a book these days. It was easy to tell when he was happy (as happy as he could get, anyway), or frustrated, or upset. She didn’t need to see his face to be able to tell that.

His rigid back slouched by the slightest degree. His hand gripping the spoon trembled, which was barely noticeable, if not for the droplet of crème that fell from the tip. Something about this was bugging him. Something wrong with the ice crème? He must really want this to go well if was bothering him and his perfectionism this much.

Cow Girl leaned against the doorframe and bit her lip with unease. She broke the silence first.

“Hey… What’s the matter?”

“…I’m not sure if it’s good.”

“Huh?”

“The taste. I don’t eat much sweets.” _Anymore_. Cow Girl felt a tug at her heartstrings. He used to love sweets when he was a boy. His big sister would give those candied orange peels to him as a reward, if she remembered correctly. Cow Girl frowned in thought as she scoured her memories over the past five years he’d been staying with her, but… Nothing. She couldn’t remember a single instance in which he’d indulged in candy or sweets with her while at The Farm. Had it really been ten years since he lost his sweet tooth?

Cow Girl gave a sad, sympathetic smile before speaking up, “Want me to give it a try?”

Goblin Slayer looked at Cow Girl long and hard and nodded once.

She took that as her cue to step forward, picking up a metal spoon among the clutter of Goblin Slayer’s cutlery. She dipped it into the crème and raised it to her lips, sniffing it as she did so. It was fragrant, almost like a faint vanilla perfume, with a citrus accent.

Cow Girl slid the ice crème into her mouth, and her previously shut eyes snapped open. Her solemn expression broke into a wide smile, and she suppressed a giggle, “That’s _good!_ ”

The man’s entire posture visibly loosened and relaxed. “Is that so?” He asked.

Cow Girl set the spoon down and put a friendly hand on his shoulder pauldron. “Yes! The vanilla is yummy, and the hint of orange is so refreshing! I’m sure it’ll be amazing once you freeze it downstairs!”

Goblin Slayer nodded, yet she noticed the hidden enthusiasm in the gesture, in the slight rattle of the faceguard’s hinges. He was definitely pleased, even if he didn’t show it. Even if he didn’t quite realize it himself.

“Now c’mon. Drop that barrel in the cellar. Dinner’s waiting.”

“I see.”

* * *

 

Priestess knelt in the chapel with her hands clasped together. The chapel was sparsely populated, with a few visitors and clerics occupying the other benches. Some sat, others knelt like she did. The late morning sun shone through the stained glass that depicted the benevolent, and all-loving Earth Mother. The light illuminated the beautiful stone and wood chapel in a way that was simply _magical_.

Priestess always appreciated the radiant beauty of the chapel. When she was sober enough to notice it, anyway.

The young girl’s head lolled to one side and her eyes fluttered shut. Then she caught herself, straightened up, and rubbed at her eyes. Priestess blinked back the sleep that crept into her vision. Then she fidgeted with her cap. Anything to keep herself awake.

The “celebratory lunch” had ended up extending well into the evening. Lizard Priest, Dwarf Shaman, and High Elf Archer had ended up spending hours upon hours around that tavern table recounting their own stories that led them where they are now. These ranged from how they reached silver, to how they became a party of three that sought out the renowned Goblin Slayer. Priestess did not have much to share, other than some tidbits of her upbringing in the Church of the Earth Mother. She definitely didn’t volunteer to share what happened on her _first_ adventure, which haunted her dreams to this day.

Naturally, the drinks kept coming as the hours ticked by. They’d paced themselves at first, but as the sun began to go down, so did everyone’s reservation. That didn’t say much for Priestess, however, who was ready to pass out barely through her fifth goblet of wine. Her companions and she parted ways well into the evening, but not before their ranger spent a good five minutes drunkenly raving about how Orcbolg had missed out on all the fun.

Priestess missed him throughout the whole thing. She told herself she wouldn’t let it bother her, because wherever he was, was where he wanted to be. She’d said he treated her last year during her previous promotion. She resolved to be okay with his absence, because it was _okay_ that he do his own thing. But by the _gods_ , did she miss his slurred _“I see”_ and the way _“Is that so?”_ rolled out of his mouth when he was inebriated. The party just wasn’t complete without Goblin Slayer, whether in or out of combat.

By the fourth goblet, she already had a pout etched onto her face, and limply rested her head against High Elf Archer. Whenever they asked her what was wrong in their respective drunken slurs, she just groaned, moaned, and mumbled incomprehensibly in reply until they stopped prodding. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the night and her celebration with her companions, because she did! It was a night to remember full of laughs and stories and jokes all around. She just would have enjoyed it more if _he_ were there.

She’d started the morning – unfortunately – bright and early with a pounding hangover. She wasn’t exactly a partygoer, and so she hadn’t the slightest clue how to deal with a hangover. She just downed her morning tea, put on her best fake smile, and pushed on throughout the day. But now that Priestess was in the silent chapel, with no distractions to keep her awake…

The doors to the chapel opened. Normally, Priestess wouldn’t have even spared a glance, but she recognized those bold footsteps anywhere. Goblin Slayer strode into the chapel, with his almost nonchalant brand of violence in each powerful step. He carried a wooden bucket with a lid in one hand.

Priestess felt a smile creeping up to her lips at the sight of him. She wondered what brought him to her chapel today. But as quickly as she wondered it, she dashed the thought and chuckled quietly to herself. What else would bring him this way? Goblins.

Priestess eased herself back onto her pew and scooted over a little to make room for the much larger man. Goblin Slayer’s even steps slowed to a stop before her. He looked as he did any other day, with his battle-worn steel helm, chipped half-plate, grimy leather armor, round shield strapped to one arm, sword of a strange length at the hip. The only thing new in his ensemble was that bucket.

Goblin Slayer hesitated for a moment as he stood in the center of the aisle and looked at his cleric. His passively menacing appearance began to attract stares from the other churchgoers, and Priestess was quick to pick up on this.

She stood up, closing the distance between them, “Goblin Slayer, sir,” She smiled like a beautiful flower in bloom, “Let’s speak outside.”

Priestess stepped to his side and began making her way towards the door. Goblin Slayer walked by her side soon after.

“Is it forbidden to converse here?”

“Not exactly, but this isn’t the appropriate place to discuss goblin slaying,” Priestess said with some humor in her tone.

“I’m not here about goblins.”

Priestess’ step nearly faltered at that. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Priestess hummed in consideration as they reached the chapel doors. What an enigma this man was.

The duo exited the chapel and found themselves in the church gardens. It was full on spring now, and the garden was blooming. The grass was a healthy green, flowers sprouted, and small fruits began to form among the low hanging tree branches.

“You don’t look so good,” Goblin Slayer deadpanned.

Priestess skidded to a halt to face the man, and she locked her hungover pupils into the depths of his helm. She tried her best to frown menacingly at him, but she knew it was probably no good.

“Goblin Slayer sir,” She huffed, “That’s rude!”

The warrior’s helmet averted her glare and a grunt emanated from within. “I’m sorry.”

But that didn’t keep him at bay, as he continued, “Are you sick?”

Priestess let out a sigh, and she took a second to berate herself. Of course, he meant no harm. He was only concerned for her wellbeing, as he always has been. Her headache was just making her a little cranky.

Priestess resumed walking as she responded, “We had a little too much to drink last night.”

“Is that so?”

Priestess hummed in affirmation as they strolled along the garden’s stone path. Eventually, they came upon a stone bench. Priestess in her current state was in no mood to walk further, and so she plopped herself down with little fuss. She closed her eyes, taking in the earthy smells and the playful chirps of the birds that fluttered about.

Goblin Slayer took a seat next to the cleric’s left side, the bucket now on his lap. He thumbed the lid of the bucket for a moment in hesitation.

“A minstrel once told me that tree sap helps with alcohol sickness in the morning.” Goblin Slayer offered.

“I suppose we could go to the market to buy some.”

“Yes.”

They lapsed into silence once more. Priestess opened one eye to look at Goblin Slayer, who sat there holding onto the mysterious bucket. He seemed tense.

“What’s in the bucket?” She finally probed.

“It’s for you.”

“W-what?” Priestess’ eyes shot open, and she turned to Goblin Slayer, who extended the bucket for her to take. She didn’t need a mirror to know she was turning red. With unsure hands, she reached out and held the bucket, which was _freezing_ cold to the touch.

“Woah, what’s in this?”

“Ice crème.”

“Ice – but – why – how did – what –” Priestess began to stammer, but the concept of Goblin Slayer gifting her ice crème just tickled her, and she found herself giggling at the stoic man. She set the frigid bucket down on her lap and looked up at him as if for permission. She didn’t need it, but Goblin Slayer nodded, nevertheless.

Priestess peeled the lid off, revealing the frozen, creamy goodness within, speckled with orange. Her smile grew wider than she thought possible, along with the redness in her cheeks. She opened her mouth to ask what this was all about, when he beat her to it.

“I’m sorry,” He said.

Priestess grin faded to a small, worried smile. The man could do no wrong. Goblin Slayer was a saint in her eyes. With more than a little hesitation, Priestess placed her small hand on Goblin Slayer’s arm as she spoke, “What for? You haven’t done anything.”

“I realize now that your promotion was very important to you. I’m sorry I didn’t join you and the party to celebrate.”

Priestess held the small smile on her face as she peered into the depths of his helmet. She nodded slowly, and her smile grew wider once more like a blooming flower. “It’s no problem. Apology accepted.”

Goblin Slayer procured a spoon from the pouch at his hip and handed it to her. “This is a …” He paused, as if recalling something, “Congratulations present.”

“Thank you so much, Goblin Slayer sir,” Priestess’ spoon hovered over the bucket, and she looked at Goblin Slayer, “I’ll accept your present if you share it with me.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so.”

“I see.” Goblin Slayer nodded, “After you, then.”

Priestess dug the spoon into the ice crème and slid the spoon between her lips. The flavor exploded in her mouth, and she found herself humming in pleasure at the delicacy.

“This is delicious!” Priestess exclaimed, smiling wide as she handed Goblin Slayer the spoon. He nodded far too seriously in response.

“Good. That’s good,” He said as he spooned some of the ice crème and ate through his visor as he always does. Goblin Slayer released a quiet hum at the taste as well.

The duo lapsed into a comfortable silence as they took turns eating a spoonful at a time from the bucket. All throughout their snacking, Priestess stole glances at the man next to her as he ate. He eventually removed the chin-piece of his visor, revealing the pale flesh beneath, and making the task of spooning ice cream into his mouth much easier. He made no ceremony or note of it, and simply continued eating as though nothing had changed. Priestess watched with a little too much intent as Goblin Slayer partook in the frozen treat, and warmth filled her chest. She giggled, making little attempt to restrain her mirth.

She’d never noticed it before. Goblin Slayer had a thin layer of stubble that was kept so neatly shaved, she wasn’t surprised she missed it the first time he took his helmet off. She imagined him with a mirror and a bucket of water, locking all the windows and doors around him as a precaution against ambushes. Only then he’d remove his helmet, since there was _no_ way he could shave with his helmet and visor on. And the thought was just so strangely and wholly endearing to her that she couldn’t help herself.

Priestess wrapped her arm around his own and rested her temple against the cool steel of his shoulder pauldron. The girl let out a contented sigh as her eyes shut. Goblin Slayer was unperturbed, minimizing his arm movements to avoid disturbing her, but nevertheless taking scoops of ice crème from the bucket every few minutes.

Goblin Slayer broke the silence to ask her, “Are you done?”

Priestess’ lovely blue eyes fluttered open and looked up into his helm, and just barely making out his tranquil, red pupils. She felt the heat creeping up to her cheeks as she asked him, “Give me one last bite?”

His helmet rattled faintly with a gentle nod. Goblin Slayer shoveled into the ice crème and raised the spoon to the girl’s mouth. She was glad that the cool food could at least try to combat her blazing cheeks.

Priestess savored the flavor as she crunched down on a particularly large candied orange peel. She let out another satisfied hum as she leaned back into Goblin Slayer’s pauldron.

“The candy is a really nice touch. What gave you the idea to put it into the ice crème?”

Goblin Slayer was silent, but Priestess knew it was because he was thinking. After what felt like a few minutes, his voice sounded through the steel helm.

“My sister.”

Priestess looked up at Goblin Slayer, who looked straight ahead at the rest of the gardens. She straightened up a little, so that she wasn’t leaning on him. But she didn’t relinquish his arm either.

“Yeah?” She prodded.

“Yeah…” Goblin Slayer paused, “Whenever I’d finish my chores early, she’d let me have some of them.”

Priestess conjured up the image of a little Goblin Slayer in tiny armor washing dishes, mopping the floor, hanging laundry, and it brought a smile to her face.

“What was she like?”

“Wise. Protective. Kind…” As the man trailed off again, Priestess couldn’t help but note how those same words could be attributed to him, “… I…”

Priestess remained silent, giving him the time he needed to process what he wished to say. She’d long since discovered that this was the key to getting him to open up and talk about something other than Goblins. You had to be patient when prodding him… But other times you were just unlucky, and his silence meant his mind had wandered to goblin slaying.

A sigh released from his helm.

“I miss her.”

Priestess felt a pang in her heart at the twinge of emotion in his stoic voice. She ran her thumb over the padded doublet protecting his wrist as she considered her words.

“Mother Superior says it’s good to talk about the people we lose.” Priestess offered, thinking back to her mentor’s lessons about loss. Goblin Slayer never really talked about his past, including his sister. The last time was when they talked about where goblins came from, all those years ago. But you didn’t need to be a genius to guess what happened to Goblin Slayer’s family. One could put the pieces together. The thought made Priestess’ heart ache.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” She hummed, “You keep their memory with you, so they’re always apart of you.”

“Hmm…” Goblin Slayer studied the young cleric’s face, as she gave him a sad smile. “I think…”

A shrill voice could be heard in the distance, as if in argument, followed by a deeper one, seemingly teasing. Then a third voice, coming out in a deep hiss, mediating the two. Priestess quickly released Goblin Slayer’s arm, her cheeks hot as a fire poker. She averted her gave from the man, and let it settle on the almost forgotten bucket of ice crème on her lap, still nice and cold, but now softer, and easier to scoop up.

“That would be good,” Goblin Slayer quietly finished, drawing Priestess’ attention back to him.

“As good as your homemade ice crème?” Priestess smiled her blooming smile at the man.

A sharp exhale emanated from within his helmet, and Priestess felt gifted to be graced by one of Goblin Slayer’s rare chuckles.

“Is it that good?” His helmet tilted at the young blonde.

Priestess squeezed his arm one last time. “The best.”

“Orcbolg! Are you two on a date?!” Green hair bobbed into sight as High Elf Archer made her appearance. Right behind her were Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman.

“No!”

“No.”

The ranger stalked forth, hands on her hips. She squinted at the two with her bright elf eyes. Priestess was red like a ripe tomato, but that wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence. Goblin Slayer sat as stoically as ever. The only change in his image was the missing chin-piece of his helmet. High Elf Archer caught on quick, and her eyes locked onto the bucket of ice crème on Priestess’ lap.

“Huh.” She stared.

“Hmm, what have we here? Is this the fabled ice crème you mentioned all those months ago?” Dwarf Shaman chimed in.

Lizard Priest’s tail excitably thudded against the ground as he crouched down to get a closer look at the bucket, “Made from the nectar of the Gods!”

Priestess giggled at her companions, and turned to Goblin Slayer, who turned back to her. She gave a half-hearted shrug, simply happy to share the delicacy with her companions.

“Yeah. I made some… for the whole group.” Goblin Slayer added the last part as his eyes flitted to Priestess to give her a knowing look that she’d never see.

“It’s really good, you have to try some!” Priestess happily added.

“Hoho, and Long Ears dares to laugh at the dwarf that is always prepared for food!” Dwarf Shaman procured a set of three spoons from his pouch. The elf glared at her companion, but her expression was quickly replaced by curiosity as she squeezed in next to Priestess on the bench.

“Master Spellcaster, truly you are blessed with the gift of culinary foresight!” Lizard Priest declared as his tail continued to wag enthusiastically.

Lizard Priest eagerly scooped himself a small serving first, shortly followed by Dwarf Shaman, and finally High Elf Archer.

“Hey,” Goblin Slayer interrupted them mid-taste. His helmet was turned to High Elf Archer.

“What?”

“Your promise still holds, right?”

The elf frowned at her human compatriot, tilting her head, ears lowering slightly. “What promise?”

“You’re not going to kick me if you don’t like it.” One could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

Laughter erupted among the party as High Elf Archer felt her cheeks heat up by a smidge. She made a face at Goblin Slayer before rolling her eyes.

“Sheesh, are you still worked up about that? That was _one_ time, Orcbolg!” She narrowed her eyes at the warrior, who crossed his arms defiantly.

“Yes, I promise, okay? Now let’s taste this thing already!”

Another round of jovial laughter sounded from their group; mostly from Priestess, Dwarf Shaman, and Lizard Priest, anyway. High Elf Archer was busy glaring at Goblin Slayer, who was probably smirking under his helmet. But of course, they’d never know that.

The three newcomers all responded to the ice crème with absolute delight. Lizard Priest’s tail waved so vigorously that he nearly tripped a passing nun. Dwarf Shaman let out a loud holler, before ecstatically discussing the possibility of infusing liqueur into the ice crème. High Elf Archer _moaned_ , and drew stares from some onlookers, prompting Dwarf Shaman to nudge her into silence.

The five friends, ate, laughed, and enjoyed one another’s company. No goblins, no crises to stop; it was peaceful. The hours would go by, and the bucket of ice crème would run dry. There was no telling what the coming days would hold. What sinister plans the fickle Gods had in store, and what valiant hardships that heroes would have to endure.

But, at least for now, all was well.

Dwarf Shaman cracked a terrible pun. Lizard Priest was in stitches laughing. High Elf Archer looked prepared to maim the dwarf.

Priestess’ small hand settled on top of Goblin Slayer’s much larger hand. Her other hand was on her modest chest, trying to contain her laughter. Her eyes looked into the depths of the man’s helm, and she saw the red eyes within, looking back at her.

They didn’t look relaxed, but she suspected he never relaxed. Yet despite how contradictory it may seem, there was a certain calmness to it. The tempest had been kept at bay. And it was enough.

His fingers shifted slightly, allowing her pinky finger to slip down next to his thumb. He gave her pinky the gentlest squeeze.

Yes. All was well.

 

 

 

 


End file.
